This Flu That Slows Me So
This horrid flu that for a week
or more I silently bore
waiting for symptoms to abate
strength to return anew
I rested often but disease
persists returns not any vitality
head eyes ache nose runs
throat hurts dizzy I am meek
yet grateful I am for this flu
that slows me so lets me sleep
for oft throughout slow day
in spaces slow to my God I speak.
Blessed therefore may be the meek
who in fever worship speak.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
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